


Breathing the Air

by DetectiveAtWork



Series: oh, how i mourn my people [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Air Nomad Genocide (Avatar), Air Nomads (Avatar), Air Temples (Avatar), Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Haunting, Hurt/Comfort, Peace, Rebuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27479290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DetectiveAtWork/pseuds/DetectiveAtWork
Summary: The Air Nomads were a very spiritual people. The Air Nomads adored their home. Though their time was cut short, it did not mean they had to leave.Or, Aang swears that his people are still here.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar)
Series: oh, how i mourn my people [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007955
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	Breathing the Air

**Author's Note:**

> What's that? I have an ATI exam tomorrow and instead of studying I'm writing fic? Sounds about right.
> 
> Title comes from OneRepublic's "Choke" 
> 
> "I'll be holding onto something,  
> Breathing the air you took away."

_ “Love is a form of energy, and it swirls all around us.” Guru Pathik _

It started with little things. Tricks of the eyes or ears, often something so small that would make you do a double take and then shake your head and mutter how you think you’re going crazy. It was something Aang and Katara experienced often, staying at the Temples. 

It would be tiny things, like hearing voices or having the tea heat up quicker than normal. Sometimes, smells would fill their room of trees and flowers that were long gone. But it was nothing major to be concerned over and it’s not like it happened all the time. 

It wasn’t until Bumi had been born that they realized what was really happening,  _ was really happening _ and not a trick of the eyes. 

The Temples, mainly his southern home, were all refurbished and brought into better shape, ergo a livable place. It initially sparked an inner controversy, if he should rebuild the temples completely; Zuko said he had no problem funding whatever Aang needed when it came to the Air Temples, but Aang was still torn. 

But somehow, the idea of rebuilding them made Aang’s heart twist as he looked at them from afar. If he was distracted, sometimes out of the corner of his eye he could still see his friends all playing in the lower courtyard, he could hear the chants coming from the higher rooms, and if he closed his eyes he could  _ almost smell the incense- _

_ (It's another sad reminder to him that he had to make these decisions for his people; that there is nobody here alive to help guide him. That he must, ultimately, do this by himself). _

So no, he wasn’t rebuilding his home from scratch. 

To do so would erase all the good of his people and their history. His people never cared if the walls were new and not cracked, they wouldn’t care about having the newest style of painting for murals, or that some of the weeds had grown over their creed and into their sanctuary. For all the Temples and their somewhat ostentatious beauty, it had never been about that, it had been about what-  _ who _ \- was in them. The scorch marks on the faded marble wall showed his people’s history as much as the rundown statues in the courtyard did. 

It didn’t take long, especially with Toph there. The two of them fixed a majority of the structural issues and repaired statues rather quickly. What was left over was, well, everything else.

Though his people wouldn’t mind the state of their home and would in fact rejoice at people simply _being there,_ Aang couldn’t help but hear Gyatso’s  _ “What little we have, we must always take care of.” _ in his head every time he looked at the faded murals and overgrown plants. He would fix it,  _ he didn’t know how, _ but he would. 

It took years and the founding of the new Air Acolytes, but together, he was proud to visit his home and see the past, but also look into the future. The temples stood tall in the clouds as they always had, but now there was life to them. He could see the flowers, people bustling in the distance, hear the chimes as they lightly fluttered in the wind- everything that made his heart heavy and light at the same time. Having them whole again somehow changed them. There was something in the air that always made Aang pause and reach out instinctually to see if there was something  _ more. _

The Temples weren’t where he and his family often dwelled, but the children were there often enough for it to have a lasting impact in their memory. Katara had made sure of this, stating that they had two cultures and heritages to learn.

It wasn’t until Aang remembered something that Guru Pathik had said in passing, that he really had an idea of what was happening. The Guru had looked around at the empty meditation mats, dusty and old, the cracked floors with weeds and vines growing through them, and the faded murals waiting to be touched up. He had closed his eyes and sighed, before facing Aang and muttering,  _ “If these walls could talk, they would sing.”  _

At that time, Aang had chalked it up to elder idiosyncrasies. He had grown up with many of the masters- _sometimes even Gyatso_ \- and knew to nod his head along to whatever they were saying. 

But, once his and Katara’s children came along...it became more noticeable. 

Bumi would laugh at gusts of wind and clap his hands when the chimes rang. When he was able to walk and his exploration grew, it was almost like the temple watched out for him. His playing never ceased and he never seemed to get bored like he often did back at Republic City. He would never stray too close to an edge, never climb a rotted tree branch, only sturdy ones. Little things that Aang and Katara had chalked up to luck. 

It was noticeable in Kya as well. Though she was more drawn to water, she would dance in the wind, just as graceful and elegant as a child airbender would. When she was younger she would babble about the pretty dancing colors all around where his people used to hold celebrations. Eyes gleaming, she would say how happy the colors were. She also preferred heights and would tease Bumi, and sometimes even Tenzin, about how she could climb to the highest points in the temple the fastest. That she liked to do this to hear the wind perform. All things Aang and Katara chalked up to childhood eccentricities. 

With Tenzin, however, it was the most obvious. 

The walls seemed to sing, air flowing in and out, it seemed to rejoice that he, an airbender, had finally found his way home. Aang and his family would find toddler Tenzin laughing his head off at the falling leaves that seemed to dance without Aang bending. Every so often, Aang and Katara swore they could hear Tenzin speaking to someone, little childish babbles as if answering or acknowledging a person. Sometimes there were gentle nudges by the wind of arms and elbows to keep a good stance with the air. 

Sure,Tenzin loved to see the world, but at the Temples, he  _ thrived. _ It was like he was a rejuvenated breath of cold air and all tension would leave his shoulders. He would meditate best at the temples, sitting for hours, never fidgeting with frustration. In some peculiar circumstances, when Aang was trying to teach his children a new Air Nomad recipe and he would momentarily forget an ingredient, Tenzin  _ always _ nudged the right one towards him.

Aang  _ knew  _ it was his people. 

He would never state it out loud, as Katara and the others would give him those borderline pitying looks whenever he mentioned his old home or his people. The ones that left him feeling worse than what he intended for the conversation. 

But, he knew, just  _ knew _ it was his people trying to make sure they were heard, making sure they weren’t lost to him, to time. He heard them when he would meditate. Light laughter and old hymns would ring in his ears. He would feel them comfort him when he wept in the sanctuary with gusts of warm air or phantom hands on his shoulders. He would see them in his children and his friend’s children as they played lighthearted, without a care in the world. 

In the sunlight and starlight, he would see them. He would see them when he looked at the world and saw peace. 

It’s funny, because Aang realized they were always there. He just needed to _notice._

He knew Tenzin knew it too. After they had the talk of  _ ‘where are the others?’ _ he would see him look thoughtfully outside and tilt his head as if he never realized he was alone. As he grew, though, and his sense of duty and seriousness replaced his childish wiles, it was harder to see his people reach out to him. Part of Aang mourned for him. 

It somehow made leaving easier. Because he wasn’t really leaving, was he? There would hopefully be others, a new generation, to fill the Temples. And like his ancestors, he would be there to see it, maybe not in the way he hoped, but he would be there all the same.

* * *

Decades later, there is yelling and laughter, singing and chanting, people loving freely and moving freely, and living peacefully. Maybe not at the same place, but then again, it was never about  _ location. _

Tenzin, with tears in his eyes, looks out to the harbor and watches leaves dance in the distance. His tears dry and he finds himself laughing for the first time in years.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! 
> 
> Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it! You might have noticed that I made this a part of a series, and while my professors are currently making sure I never see the light of day, this one piece begged to be written down. Since I have many ideas like it, I hope to make a series mainly about the Air Nomads. I don't know when I shall write next (see earlier message about evil professors), but I do have some ideas and outlines as to what I want. As per usual, the AN hold a special place in my heart. 
> 
> For the other idea I had about a longer Aang centric piece...that's on the back burner (well, not even on the stove tbh), but I shall try to incorporate a more Aang centric piece in this series!
> 
> In the future, when Aang's children are depicted I should tell you that I do not love the way LoK depicted Aang and Katara's parenting so I will simply be ignoring that (I could write a damn thesis on things in LoK but we shan't go there). 
> 
> If anyone is wondering what kind of inspired this there is three pieces of artwork that have my heart by tamberella "Aang's Great Loss" to "Aang's Dream Realized" here is the link for that 
> 
> https://tamberella.tumblr.com/post/623282387179159552/aangs-great-loss


End file.
